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MEMORIES  OF 
CALVARY 

AN  EASTER  SKETCH • 


COMPOSED  BY 

OLIVIA  WARD  BUSH 

BOSTON,  MASS. 


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MEMORIES  OF 
CALVARY 

AN  EASTER  SKETCH 


COMPOSED  BY 


OLIVIA  WARD  BUSH 

BOSTON,  MASS. 


The  A.  M.  E.  Book  Concern  Print,  631  Pine  St.,  Philada,  Pa. 


LIBRARY 

.  UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 

AT  URBANA- CHAMPAIGN 


PREFACE 


It  is  the  writer’s  strong  conviction  that  more  and 
more  the  need  for  strong  faith  in  Christ,  as  the  Re¬ 
deemer  of  men,  impresses  itself  upon  those  who  seek' 

/ 

not  only  for  Spiritual  Truth,  but  for  Spiritual  Peace 
as  well. 

The  many  doctrines  of  the  present  day,  the  rapid 
advance  of  materialism  all  tend  to  detract  from 
rather  than  add  to  spiritual  strength,  and  the  writer 
believes  that  the  recognition  of  Christ,  as  the  High¬ 
est  Ideal  is  imperative  and  absolutely  needful  for 
man’s  best  development. 


OLIVIA  WARD  BUSH. 


CHARACTERS 


NIGHT  (personified) — a  young  woman  wear¬ 
ing  a  long  black  robe,  trimmed  with  stars. 

ANXIOUS  SEEKER — (a  young  woman  who 
seeks  to  know  the  truth  of  Calvary's  Cross,  wear¬ 
ing  first  black,  then  white). 

MALE  QUARTETTE  (invisible). 

HERALDS  OF  THE  CROSS— (15  or  20  young 
men  and  young  women,  who  herald  the  Easter 
morn;  white  robes  are  preferred). 


MEMORIES  OF  CALVARY 


SCENE  I 


Night  on  Calvary 

Tall  palms  may  be  used  on  platform  arranged  to 
suggest  a  grove — lights  are  turned  off  or  dimly 
seen.  In  the  distance,  on  an  elevation,  is  seen  a 
wooden  Cross,  at  the  base  of  which  kneels  or  sits 
the  Anxious  Seeker,  robed  in  black. 

Night  appears  robed  in  black  and  silver  stars.  • 
Night  soliloquizes,  comforts  Anxious  Seeker,  then 
departs.  Anxious  Seeker  soon  follows. 

Before  curtain  rises  invisible  male  quartette  sings 
the  familiar  hymn,  “Peace,  Perfect  Peace.” 

Voice  of  Night  (Soliloquizes).  “Day  has  long 
since  departed,  over  the  sleeping  earth,  silence  has 
fallen  and  the  restless  heart  of  man  beats  calm  again 
in  these,  his  slumbering  hours,  while  there  on  Cal¬ 
vary’s  Hill  stands  out  the  cross  and  though  Earth’s 
shadows  cast  their  endless  lengths  over  all  the  vast 
expanse  of  the  Creator’s  earth,  they  cannot  hide 
from  view  this  sacred  emblem  of  man's  imperish¬ 
able  immortal  inheritance,  they  cannot  dim  the 
greatness  of  its  glory. 

But  as  for  man,  he  sleeps,  for  he  is  a  weary,  poor, 


6 


restless  man,  ever  weary,  yet  ever  striving,  seek¬ 
ing  always,  yet  still  unsatisfied.  He  has  traversed 
the  earth  from  shore  to  shore,  laying  low  the  migh¬ 
ty  forests  in  his  pathway,  holding  back  the  onward 
course  of  rushing  waters,  awearied,  yes,  hut  re¬ 
lentless  in  his  search  for  greater  triumphs. 

Deep  down  into  the  heart  of  Mother-Earth  he  has 
forged  his  way  and  brought  up  priceless  gems  from 
Nature’s  richest  mines.  Down  into  the  almost  un¬ 
fathomable  depths  of  mighty  oceans  he  has  laid  his 
cable  lengths,  bringing  near  the  distant  lands,  en¬ 
abling  man  to  send  with  speed  a  message  to  his  far 
off  brother  man.  He  has  hewn  his  way  through 
mighty  rocks  of  unnumbered  ages.  He  has  scaled 
the  mountain  even  to  its  highest  peak  and  builded 
there  his  magnificent  palaces  of  home.  Awearied? 
Yes,  but  not  content,  he  needs  must  try  the  unknown 
regions  up  and  beyond  the  floating  clouds,  and  out 
of  the  mighty  power  of  his  mental  concept,  he  has 
wrought  the  wonder  of  the  centuries — the  chariots 
of  the  air — by  which  men  fly  at  will  to  heights  such 
as  man  ne’er  before  conceived  of. 

But  man’s  soul  is  not  at  rest,  for,  over  and  beyond 
his  great  achievements,  stands  out  the  Cross  of 
Christ,  the  mortal  and  immortal  Emblem  of  man’s 
highest  need  and  strongest  hope. 

O  Calvary !  Calvary !  in  thee,  and  thee  alone  shall 
man  find  peace  and  rest.  (Discovers  Anxious  Seek¬ 
er  at  the  foot  of  Cross). 


7 


But  who  is  this  in  mournful  guise  beneath  the 
Shadow  of  the  Cross?  Speak  Mortal!  Why  art 
thou  here  in  this,  the  gloom  and  darkness  of  Earth’s 
silent  hour?  The  Voice  of  Night  now  bids  thee 
speak!  What  seekest  thou?  ‘ 

Anxious  Seeker. — O  Voice  of  Night,  I  seek  to 
know  the  meaning  of  this  Cross ;  my  soul  is  weight¬ 
ed  down  with  longing  for  the  higher  way  of  life, 
and  I  did  feel  that,  somehow  here,  beneath  this 
Cross,  my  soul  might  find  release,  and  I  must  here 
abide  until  the  morning  breaks.  Dost’  thou  know 
the  meaning  of  this  Cross? 

Voice  of  Night. — O  Anxious  Seeker,  ’tis  the  Cross 
of  Christ,  and  beneath  it  is  the  Mount  of  Calvary. 
Have  you  not  heard  the  wondrous  story  of  Him, 
who  suffered  there  and  died? 

Anxious  Seeker. — Ah!  Yes  the  story  has  been 
told,  yet  I,  alas !  but  darkly  can  discern  its  mean¬ 
ing.  O,  tell  me  aught  you  know  of  Calvary’s  Christ. 

Voice  of  Night. — O  Anxious  Seeker,  in  the  days 
when  man  first  felt  the  need  of  Life  and  help  Di¬ 
vine,  I  looked  from  out  my  home,  amid  the  shining 
stars,  and  I  beheld  on  Calvary’s  Hill  the  Cross, 
where  hung  the  Crucified,  who  gave  His  Life  a  ran¬ 
som  for  man’s  sin.  I  saw  the  veil  of  the  Mighty 
Temple  rent  in  twain,  I  heard  His  agonizing  cry. 
It  is  finished !  It  is  finished !  I  heard  the  cry  of 


8 


mortals  in  their  terror  and  their  fears.  But  once 
again  I  looked,  and  Lo !  the  Cross  was  bare.  The 
Christ  had  filled  His  mighty  purpose.  Through  the 
vaulted  heavens  above  my  starry  home  I  heard  An¬ 
gelic  hosts  proclaim :  The  Christ  has  risen !  Behold ! 
man’s  fettered  soul  is  now  redeemed  forevermore. 
O,  Anxious  Seeker,  have  but  faith  and  thou  shalt 
truly  find  the  Prince  of  Peace.  And  now,  the  morn¬ 
ing  breaks !  Farewell,  and  when  we  meet  again, 
may  you  have  changed  your  robe  of  gloom  for  one 
of  spotless  white.  Farewell!  Farewell! 

fNight  disappears  and  lights  are  turned  on  grad¬ 
ually.) 

Anxious  Seeker. — The  Prince  of  Peace !  Ah ! 
now  the  light  comes  in ;  I  feel  His  Kingly  Presence 
in  my  soul !  The  Cross  stands  out  in  all  its  bright¬ 
ness  now,  and  from  the  distance  comes  the  sound 
of  heavenly  music,  as  if  ’twere  borne  on  Angel’s 
wings.  (Listens). 

Invisible  Male  Quartette  sings  the  familiar  hymn. 

Jesus  calls  us  o’er  the  tumult 
Of  our  Life’s  wild,  restless  sea, 

Day  by  day  His  sweet  voice  soundeth, 

Saying  Christian,  follow  Me! 

Jesus  calls  us,  by  Thy  mercies, 

Saviour,  may  we  hear  Thy  call, 

Give  our  hearts  to  Thy  obedience, 

Serve  and  love  Thee  best  of  all! 


9 


Anxious  Seeker. — Ah !  how  sweetly  strange  this 
music  seems,  as  if  in  answer  to  my  soul’s  desire.  I 
will  arise,  I  will  put  off  this  robe  of  gloom  for  one 
.of  spotless  white  to  greet  the  Easter  Dawn. 

(Anxious  Seeker  departs  and  lights  are  turned 
on  in  full) 


SCENE  II 


Easter  Morning 

Lights  are  turned  on  full.  Heralds  of  the  Cross 
enter  bearing  flowers  to  cast  at  the  foot  of  Cross. 
They  sing,  Holy!  Holy!  Holy!  Lord  God  Al¬ 
mighty.  Enter  Anxious  Seeker  (robed  in  white). 
She  joins  them  in  praise.  They  depart  together 
singing,  All  hail  the  power  of  Jesus’  Name. 

(Enter  15  or  20  young  men  and  women,  “Her¬ 
alds  of  the  Cross,”  robed  in  white ;  they  approach 
the  Cross  and  scatter  flowers  at  its  base,  singing 
Holy!  Holy!  Holy!  Lord  God  Almighty.  They 
continue  to  sing  until  the  Anxious  Seeker  returns 
and  lays  her  flowers  at  the  base  of  Cross.  Then 
rising,  she  turns  to  the  singers.) 


10 


Anxious  Seeker. — O  glad  young  voices,  heralding 
this  blessed  morn,  I,  too,  would  seek  to  praise  the; 
Prince  of  Peace,  for  He  has  passed  my  way,  and 
from  His  storehouse  rich  with  love,  has  showered  • 
blessings  on  my  waiting  soul. 

O  listen,  while  I  give  to  you  the  wondrous  mes¬ 
sage  of  His  love.  (Recites  the  following  verses)  : 

Anxious  Seeker. — 

Stealing  over  my  heart  with  strch  sweetness. 

Came  the  words  so  divinely  true: 

“I  will  open  the  windows  of  Heaven, 

And  pour  rich  blessings  on  you.” 

He  did  open  the  windows  of  Heaven, 

And  oh,  such  a  blessing  He  poured; 

My  Father,  so  rich  in  His  mercies, 

My  Saviour,  my  King,  and  my  Lord. 

I  had  asked  Him  in  pitiful  weakness, 

To  lead  me,  in  this,  my  way; 

It  was  night,  in  my  soul,  as  I  pleaded, 

But  He  led  me  to  perfect  day. 

Out  into  the  broad  green  pastures, 

Of  which  I  had  little  dreamed; 

Out  into  the  bright  clear  sunshine, 

Where  the  rays  of  His  Glory  gleamed. 

Ah,  the  blessing  was  more  than  He  promised, 

For  it  seemed  I  could  scarcely  contain 

The  wonderful  flow  of  His  mercies 
I  could  only  whisper  His  name. 

And  praise  Him  for  what  He  had  given, 

His  promise  so  sweet  and  true, 

“I  will  open  the  windows  of  Heaven 
And  pour  rich  blessings  on  you.” 

Heralds  of  the  Cross  reply: 

We  do  rejoice  with  Thee 
In  this,  Thy  new-found  peace, 


11 


Come  blend  your  voice  with  ours 
In  highest  praise. 


All  retire  from  stage,  headed  by  Anxious  Seeker- 
singing  “All  hail  the  power  of  Jesus’  Name.”  They 
sing  until  their  voices  sound  as  if  in  the  distance. 

Curtain  falls. 

Note — One  of  the  following  Easter  poems  might 
be  used  between  the  two  scenes  and  one  might  be 
used  at  conclusion  of  Memories  of  Calvary. 


12 


THE  CRUCIFIED. 


Night’s  Shadows  wrapped  the  Cross  in  gloom, 

And  e’en  the  shining  stars  grew  dim  with  grief ; 

All  Nature  bowed  in  agony, 

And  yearned  in  silent  anguish  for  relief. 

The  Temple’s  Veil  was  rent  in  twain, 

The  dead,  though  sleeping  through  the  quiet  years, 
Arose,  and  walked  the  troubled  Earth 

While  living  souls  grew  faint  with  many  fears. 

What  can  this  mighty  tumult  mean? 

The  Christ,  the  suffering  Saviour  now  has  died ! 

Ask  not,  but  gaze  on  yonder  Mount 
Of  Calvary,  where  hangs  the  Crucified! 

Olivia  Ward  Bush. 


AN  EASTER  ECHO. 

Easter  dawned,  but  I  was  weary 
With  the  fever  and  the  pain, 

And  my  soul  within  seemed  sinking, 
Never  to  revive  again. 

This  affliction  pressed  me  sor.ely, 

“Oh,  if  Fate  would  just  be  kind 
And  relieve  my  tortured  being, 

That  my  soul  might  be  resigned.” 

“O,  that  peace  would  follow  conflict, 
O,  that  grief  would  turn  to  joy, 

O,  that  suffering  might  conquer 
Where  it  threatens  to  destroy.” 

“Ah!  if  I  could  catch  a  vision 
Of  the  risen  Christ  today, 

I  am  sure  my  faith  would  strengthen, 
And  all  doubt  would  pass  away.” 


I 


13 

Thus  with  self  I  lay  communing, 

Tossing,  restless,  in  my  pain, 

When,  within  my  room  came  stealing 
Softly  breathing,  this  sweet  strain — 

Sung  by  little  children’s  voices, 

Heralding  our  Easter  day ; 

Ringing  through  my  open  window 
From  God’s  Temple  o’er  the  way. 

“He  is  Risen !  He  is  Risen ! 

Wipe  away  your  falling  tear, 

Pain  and  grief  and  doubt  are  vanquished, 

For  the  Lord  Christ  draweth  near.” 

Hushed  at  once  was  my  complaining, 

And  my  earthly  sight  grew  dim, 

For  my  soul  had  caught  a  vision, 

And  rejoicing,  cried  to  Him, — 

Who  today  arose  in  triumph, 

“O,  Thou  Conqueror  of  strife, 

I  accept  Thy  heaven-sent  message, 

Let  it  echo  through  my  life, — 

Till  it  overrules  all  weakness, 

Till  it  crushes  doubt  and  fear, 

Till  I  say  in  Death,  victorious, 

He,  the  Lord  Christ  draweth  near. 

Years  have  passed  and  still  the  echo 
Lingers  with  assuring  ring, 

E’en  in  pain  or  sore  affliction, 

Children’s  voices  seem  to  sing: 

“He  is  risen!  He  is  risen! 

Wipe  away  your  falling  tear, 

Pain  and  grief  and  doubt  are  vanquished, 

For  the  Lord  Christ  draweth  near.” 

Olivia  Ward  Bush. 


t 


14 


AND  I,  IF  I  BE  LIFTED  UP. 


He  giveth  songs  way  in  the  night, 

He  listens  when  His  children  pray; 
He  m.akes  it  bright  as  noontide  light, 
He  turneth  darkness  into  day. 

I  heard  His  voice  at  midnight  hour, 

It  came  so  sweet  and  tenderly ; 

And  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up. 

Will  surely  draw  all  men  to  Me. 


And  I  beheld  Him  on  the  Cross, 
Uplifted  for  my  guilt  and  sin ; 
Uplifted  th^re  in  love  divine  • 

That  He  might  draw  all  men  to  Him. 
And  I  beheld  Him  once  again, 

L^plifted  as  the  Father’s  Son, 

Uplifted  in  the  realms  above, 

A  King  upon  a  Kingly  throne. 


I  fancied  Heaven’s  pearly  gates, 
Swung  wide  that  I  might  enter  in; 
I  fancied  Heaven’s  arches  rang, 

With  praise  for  victory  over  sin. 
And  I  beheld  a  white-robed  host, 
Low  at  His  feet,  adoring  fall, 

I  heard  their  grand  triumphant  song, 
He  is  our  King,  the  Lord  of  all. 


’Twas  but  His  voice  at  midnight  hour, 

Which  came  so  sweet  and  tenderly; 

And  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up, 

Will  surely  draw  all  men  to  me. 

He  gave  me  songs  way  in  the  night, 

I  felt  His  joy  and  peace  within, 

He  led  toward  Heaven  my  fancy’s  flight, 

That  He  might  draw  me  close  to  Him. 

Olivia  Ward  Bush. 


15 

$ 

FOR  THEE. 

(An  Easter  Poem) 

And  from  His  hands  and  from  His  side, 

Flowed  down  great  drops  of  blood; 

For  you,  for  me,  for  everyone, 

Streamed  out  that  crimson  flood. 

Take  thou  this  comfort  to  thine  heart, 

Poor  wounded,  stricken  soul, 

That  He  who  chastens  thee  with  love, 

Thy  weakness  will  control. 

If  bitter  is  the  cup  you  taste, 

In  dark  Gethsemane; 

Remember  that  He  tasted  first 
That  bitter  cup  for  thee. 

He'll  move  thy  obstacle  of  sin, 

He'll  set  thy  spirit  free, 

He  proved  His  endless  boundless  love, 

On  rugged  Calvary. 

Ah,  trembling  One,  He  did  it  all, 

Because  He  loved  thee  so; 

Then  cast  on  Him  this  care  of  thine, 

O,  trust  in  Him,  and  know : 

That  from  His  hands  and  from  His  side, 
Flowed  down  great  drops  of  blood, 

For  you,  for  me,  for  everyone, 

Streamed  out  that  crimson  flood. 

Olivia  Ward  Bush 


WHY  WEEPEST  THOU? 
(Easter  Poem) 

“Why  weepest  thou  here?"  said  the  Master, 
And  whom  dost  thou  seek  today? 

And  Mary  replied  in  her  sorrow : 

“They  have  taken  my  Lord  away. 


16 


\ 


And  I  know  not  where  they  have  laid  Him, 
Though  I’ve  watched  since  the  early  morn; 

I  would  take  Him  away  could  I  find  Him, 

Oh,  Sir !  to  whence  was  He  borne.” 

And  the  Master  with  love  overflowing, 

Said  Mary,  in  accents  so  sweet, 

That  she  knew  her  dear  Master  had  spoken, 

And  with  joy  she  fell  at  His  feet; 

Wiped  away  were  the  tears  of  her  sorrow, 

Her  waiting  had  not  been  in  vain, 

In  her  soul  rang  the  Angel’s  glad  message : 

He  arose,  and  He  liveth  again ! 

Why  weepest  thou  here,  waiting  Christian, 

Know  ye  not  that  He’s  risen  today? 

That  the  confines  of  earth  could  not  hold  Him, 
And  the  stone  has  been  rolled  away? 

Have  you  waited  and  watched  since  the  morning? 
Then  your  waiting  has  not  heen  in  vain, 

List  the  voice  of  His  Angel  proclaiming, 

He  arose,  and  He  liveth  again ! 

Why  weepest  thou  too,  trembling  sinner, 

Know  ye  not  of  His  power  to  save? 

For  thy  sake  over  death  h^s  triumphed 
For  thy  sake  He  arose  from  the  grave. 

Wipe  away  then  the  tears  of  thy  sorrow, 

For  your  longings  have  not  been  in  vain, 

For  thee  is  the  Angel’s  glad  message, 

He  arose,  and  He  liveth  again ! 


Olivia  Ward  Bush 


